


War

by Dominatrix



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, I love both of them, Maybe a bit fluffy again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:47:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/Dominatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes is constantly at war with himself and wants nobody to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War

Sherlock Holmes was at war with himself.

He had been since he was a child, too young to be taken serious by others but terribly aware of what went wrong in this world. He had tried to suppress that. Then he had tried to look older, to act even more grown than he did anyway. It got worse when he got older, reaching its height when he got into rehab and he was fighting every single second of the day, his body longing for drugs, his mind screaming for some kind of distraction that would keep him from deducing the nurses and doctors, their sex life and what secrets they had hidden from each other. He was so bored and so alone. Desperate in need for someone to stand next to him and to support him. And now his father has gotten him this addict-sitter. Joan Watson. One of the most puzzling women he had ever met. She was funny and very interesting to fight with. They did not really do anything apart from that. Right now they were arguing…Sherlock had deleted why they had started the fight.

“You will never get over your problems if you don’t talk to me. Or to your father. To _somebody_.” She was throwing her hands in the air furiously, a dangerous sparkle in her dark eyes. But she really was not getting the point that Sherlock tried to make clear to her.

“You all don’t understand. You just act like _Yeah so he’s out of rehab now his life must be pretty amazing and very easy._ No. It’s not. Definitely not. You don’t get that I am fighting every day of my miserable life.”

“Stop it” she interrupted him, her voice soft and caring. She wanted to reach her hands out, to pull him tight, to caress his hair and to tell him it was going to be all right and that there was nothing to worry about. But she didn’t know how.

“You’re wrong. I understand you. You’re still some kind of addicted. You think about drugs – I wouldn’t say all the time, but sometimes. And that’s okay, you heard that? It’s fine because you don’t actually take them.”

“I’m tempted, Watson. I think about taking them again, and then I don’t, because…”

“Why?”

“Because I know you would be highly disappointed. I don’t want to give you another reason to loathe me.”

She smiled when she saw his pulled-up, rather sarcastic eyebrow. Sherlock gave her a short smirk.

“I’m proud of you, Sherlock Holmes. Don’t you ever think I’m not. Just to hear you say something like that, just to _be with you_ right now…”

“What?” he asked, his eyes shining with bewilderment.

“It sounds stupid, but it amazes me. On a completely new level of stupidity.”

He laughed softly. “You look so puzzled right now.”

She nodded a little hesitant, her eyes veiled with doubt. “I am” she murmured. “I am so…confused.”

“Now what could I do to get you see things clearer again?”

Oh, Joan knew what she wanted. She knew what she _needed_ right now. She just wanted him in her arms, her fingers in his hair, holding him tightly, feeling his chest against hers, rising and falling as they were both breathing heavily. She wanted to kiss him, gently at first to test how far she could go, then harder, more passionate, until neither of them knew what year it was today.

“You wouldn’t be overzealous, Sherlock. I’m pretty sure.”

“Try me, Watson. You know I like challenges.”

He had absolutely no idea what he was talking about and Joan knew that it should be her job to prevent him from such situations…But there are moments in your life when you just have to risk something. This was such a moment.

She stepped closer to him until she almost stood on his feet. “You’re ridiculously small, you know?” he muttered lowly while he looked down on her.

“You’re a bad man, Sherlock Holmes. You’re bad and stupid and not very friendly.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You’ll have to take me for four more weeks. Then you’re free and we won’t see each other ever again if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head, an unbelieving smile on her face while she pulled him down to kiss him.

He was a terribly brilliant kisser. After he had overcome his first seconds of shock in which he was just standing there, stiff as a poker and a frown on his face, he was…breathtaking. His hands were around her waist within moments and pulled her even closer, they stroked over her hair and her shoulders before he laid his left hand on her cheek and softened the kiss to a very sweet and very tender caress.

 _That was pretty much the most perfect kiss in my entire life_ , Joan thought to herself. She was not sure whether she had spoken it out, but if she had, Sherlock did not mention it. He had leaned his forehead against hers and looked her in the eye. Joan swallowed hard and needed to breathe for a while before she could talk again.

“Don’t you just dare to think that you’re alone. You’re not. If you ever feel alone, come to me. Even if it’s three in the morning and I’m sleeping or I’m angry with you. I will always be there for you. Got that?” He smiled lightly while she caressed his cheek with her fingertips.

 

Yes, Sherlock Holmes was at war with himself.

But now he had a battle companion.


End file.
